


Echoes

by ConstellationStation



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Crimson Flower Route, During Timeskip (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Established Relationship, F/F, singing in weird places for the Acoustics™, “sir that is my girlfriend”, “the Holy Ghosts haunt us Your Majesty”
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:06:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28646502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConstellationStation/pseuds/ConstellationStation
Summary: Rumor has it, the Saints have returned to Garreg Mach after its siege, haunting the Imperial army with their lament. Edelgard investigates.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Edelgard von Hresvelg
Comments: 4
Kudos: 57





	Echoes

**Author's Note:**

> so I recently discovered [this youtuber who built a career out of singing in a stairwell](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCGhqLwLRnxFhSwiQJYYyGaA) and immediately thought of Dorothea bc I have BEagles Syndrome. Instead of brain, there is only BEagles,,,

The war was advancing at a snail’s pace. With the unified front of Church and Kingdom blocking them from the north and the Alliance prevaricating on their stance, all the Empire could do was guard her borders while testing theirs. It’s been over a year since Edelgard declared war and the lack of progress was frustrating. The longer it dragged on, the longer the people suffered.

As if she didn’t have enough to deal with already, ghosts have apparently started haunting Garreg Mach.

“Ghosts, you say?” Edelgard mused as she thumbed through the week’s reports.

Alois shrugged helplessly, glancing around. “Sometimes at night, you can hear singing around the monastery. It might’ve sounded beautiful, if not sad, had it been anytime else but it’s giving me the chills! Lady Rhea used to sing a lot when she was here. I can’t help but feel that this is her way of telling us she can’t truly be driven out.”

“Our spies have confirmed that  _ Her Grace _ is still in Fhirdiad,” the title sounded like an insult from her mouth. “She can’t reach you from there. Even if she could, she’d certainly do worse than sing eerily down the halls.”

He shuddered, “I suppose that’s true. It still keeps me up at night, though.”

Edelgard gave him a sympathetic glance, “I’ll have someone investigate the matter. I’m sure there’s a natural cause behind this.”

“I appreciate it, Your Majesty,” he let out a shaky laugh. “It must be silly compared to everything else on your plate.”

She set her reports down and laced her fingers together. “It wouldn’t do well for me to trivialize the morale of my soldiers. Besides, I’ve heard this singing specter once or twice, it’s worth looking into.”

He gave her a salute as she dismissed him and a “thanks again, Your Majesty,” before he slipped out the door.

Left alone with her paperwork, Edelgard returned to her duties for a while before another knock sounded at her door.

“Enter.”

She didn’t have to look up to see who it was, Hubert’s footsteps as familiar to her as his voice.

“It’s getting late, Lady Edelgard.”

“Indeed,” she said with an idle glance out the window, “just give me a moment to finalize these and I’ll retire before twelve.”

“Did you mean two hours ago or later at noon?”

She blinked, looking for her clock. Had it really been that long since Alois came to see her? She set her quill down, feeling her hand cramp. “I suppose it’s time to turn in. But before that,” she tilted her head at him, “do you know anything about the mysterious singing in the monastery? It’s been going on for about a week now, from what I’ve heard.”

Hubert tapped his chin with gloved fingers. “There have been scattered reports, but none that gave it much importance. It’s a harmless phenomenon and there are much more urgent matters.”

“The singing must come from somewhere-  _ someone _ . Shouldn’t we have found out who it is by now, especially with the interest it's drawn?”

“If it’s important to you, Your Majesty, I’ll have my spies see to it,” he offered.

“No need, I’ll investigate it myself before I go to bed,” she said, pushing off her chair. 

“Now?” he frowned.

“It can’t take too long, besides,” she said with a disdainful glance at her papers, “it’s much more appealing than finance reports. If I have to deal with another noble who refuses to pay their taxes, I’ll haunt the monastery myself.”

“I suggest you leave our innocent troops out of this.” Hubert inspected a document, “who are these nobles? I’ll haunt them for you personally.”

“Please do, but kindly be reasonable about it.” She gave him a warning glare, “I don’t want to hear of any assassinations or  _ mysterious _ illnesses in the morning.”

He flashed her a sinister grin, called terrifying by many, but she’d describe it as playful. “As you wish, Lady Edelgard.”

“Hubert, I mean it,” she told him sternly for good measure before leaving her office.

  
  


* * *

  
  


The singing could be heard around the cathedral, but strangely enough, the source of it was unclear. It was as though the melody came from the ground, rising up and ringing through the halls. One popular rumor was that the song came from the four Saint statues, haunting the Imperial army with their lament. This Edelgard disproved simply by putting her ear to the statues.

The statues were inert, but the song still echoed in the cathedral, bouncing off the walls and dispersing out of its crumbling openings. 

“Where is it coming from?” she muttered to herself. Feeling a little silly, she knelt on the floor and put her ear to the ground. Surely enough, the song seemed to get louder.

For an addled second, she believed that they were truly being haunted by the Saints, singing from their graves. She recalled that it wasn’t just dirt beneath the cathedral however the facts were still disquieting. Who would be singing from the Holy Tomb?

She crept toward the secret entrance to the Holy Tomb, steps light but heart pounding. She didn’t have any weapons on her at the moment, but the Professor had taught her a thing or two about brawling and Reason, so she’s never defenseless. Then what’ll she do, punch a ghost? “It’s not a ghost,” she berated herself, “don’t be daft.”

The singing grew louder as she descended into the crypt, almost becoming familiar. She could remember vividly the last time she was down here. If she were to find any Church affiliated phantoms, she dearly hoped it would be her missing teacher. But Byleth wasn’t known for their singing and as she entered the cavernous Tomb, she recognized the voice.

Edelgard held her breath as she pressed herself behind a pillar, watching the singer in her private aria. Dorothea sang, hands clasped before her and back turned to the throne. Her eyes were closed as the melody poured out of her mouth and filled the tomb with its haunting echoes.

Edelgard just stood there, mesmerized and reluctant to interrupt the songstress. It wasn’t long before Dorothea stopped, the final notes lingering in the echo before tapering into silence. Edelgard approached her, foregoing her earlier stealth.

Dorothea startled at the sudden clicking of her heels against stone, whirling at her in surprise, arms raised for a spell. She instantly relaxed upon seeing her. “Edie! How long have you been there?”

“I just got here,” she said, pointedly ignoring her poor sense of time as evidenced by her office hours. “What are you doing down here?”

“Ah, well…” Dorothea fiddled with the hems of her sleeves, “the acoustics in the cathedral haven't been the same since you’ve blown a hole through the roof. I wandered down here one night and I suppose I’ve been singing here ever since.”

“Are you aware of the rumors you’ve started?” She kept her tone light, teasing, not accusatory. “Word has it, the Saints are haunting us.”

Dorothea laughed airily. “Oh, I’ve heard. I don’t want to give them such an anticlimactic explanation though. Mercedes so loves her ghost stories.”

“For the sake of the faint of heart,” she said, recalling Alois, “I’ll inform them it’s just you.”

“Does that mean I have to stop singing?”

“Not at all if it makes you happy.” She hummed in thought. “However, you’ll probably attract an audience that way. If you want privacy, I’m sure we can arrange for something.”

“No need to go through the trouble,” Dorothea shook her head, “I wouldn’t mind. If I’m being honest, I miss performing on stage. While I love the opera company and the singing, I wasn’t particularly fond of the audience: mostly shallow noblemen and self-centered snobs. But here, when I sing, it’s for the soldiers, the civilians,” she sighed, expression soft, “people who are just getting by and maybe make the world a better place while they’re at it.

Something in Edelgard’s chest melted at that. “I’ll tell you what,” she whispered, as if to keep the walls from hearing that which was only between the two of them. “When this war is over, Mittelfrank Opera will open again, this time for all who wish to see it, regardless of their station. And all who perform does so because they want to, not because their survival is at stake. After the dawn of the new Fodlan, no one will need to struggle to make ends meet.”

Dorothea laughed again, leaning into her side. “You have quite the way of sweet talking a woman. Tell me more.”

“What do you wish to hear?” It was so easy for Edelgard to share her dreams of the future with Dorothea. In many ways, the songstress was the very epitome of everything she fought for. A brilliant individual who was neglected by society for no other sin than the arbitrary fact of her birth. A talented person who persevered against the odds and carved her own path by her own merits. Such a person deserved no less than a world as kind as she was.

“Hmm, I don’t know. Where will you be in that world?”

She paused, thinking it over, idly wrapping an arm around Dorothea’s waist. “I’ll still be the emperor at the beginning, of course. I’ll need to make sure the transition goes as smoothly as possible.”

“And after the dust settles?”

She turned to her and smiled, “then I’ll be wherever I like. I’ll pass on the crown to the best candidate, whether they are a commoner or a noble. Then I’ll step down and retreat somewhere quiet.”

“How quiet?” Dorothea breathed, barely whispering.

“Just away from the scrutiny of the public eye.” She gave Dorothea a meaningful look, “a little singing would be nice.”

She grinned, “how about a lot?”

“As much as you like.” Edelgard leaned up to give her a peck on the cheek, earning her a giggle.

“How about now,” Dorothea asked, somehow smiling wider than before. “Would you like me to sing for you right now?”

“If you want to,” she replied, wondering where Dorothea was going with this. The other woman looked like she had something specific on her mind.

“And without further ado,” Dorothea suddenly declared with a flourish, voice jarringly loud against their earlier whispers. “ _ Hail the mighty Edelgard~ _ ”

“Anything but that!” She interrupted, cheeks flaring.

Dorothea’s laughter echoed throughout the chamber, as melodious as any song. “Boo, you’re no fun.” Clearly not having exhausted her mischief yet, she leaned in. “How about you, Edie, won’t you sing for me?”

“Me?” she protested, “I’m no songstress.”

“Please,” Dorothea whined, batting her eyelashes.

“Right,” she scowled. She didn’t have many songs in her repertoire, and she doubted Dorothea would be impressed by her repeating the rote hymns they used to sing for the Church. She licked her lips, trying to recall the tune Dorothea had been singing as she entered.

“Oh Goddess, your face,” Dorothea snorted, “you’re actually going to sing.”

“You wanted me to!”

“I was kidding!” Her shoulders shook as she tried and failed to hide her amusement. “But I appreciate that you’re willing to sacrifice your dignity for me.”

“It wouldn’t have been  _ that  _ bad,” Edelgard muttered, nursing her injured pride. “Besides, it’s only you.”

“Careful, Edie,” she teased, “sound travels far here, remember?”

“Of course it does.” If Dorothea had the people think the Saints were haunting them, if they’d heard Edelgard, they might think a Demonic Beast had spawned in the monastery.

“Oh stop pouting, you big baby.” Dorothea cupped her cheeks and kissed the tip of her nose.

“I’m not pouting,” she firmly denied before letting Dorothea kiss her on the lips.

“Sure, you aren’t,” Dorothea sang. 

“If you’re quite done,” Edelgard grumbled, face still flushed, “I had been on my way to bed before all this. Maybe you’d like to join me?”

“Sounds like a plan. It must be getting late, what time is it?”

“I’m not sure,” she said honestly. “It was almost two when I left my office.”

“In the morning?!” Dorothea exclaimed. “Wow, uh, we need to sleep.”

Edelgard chuckled softly, taking her by the arm and leading her out of the tomb. “Come on, love, let’s leave the ghosts to their rest.”


End file.
